


Darling, Don't You Think I Should Be Pining For You?

by inlarryithrust



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Louis Is Done, M/M, Pining, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-25 22:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlarryithrust/pseuds/inlarryithrust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis hated it. He absolutely hated staying away from Harry like this. Breaking up with Eleanor, and not telling anyone, especially Harry, was killing him inside. Surely, Harry knew there was something wrong, but he chose to give Louis space. Well, Louis didn't need space. He needed Harry to come sweep him off his feet and kiss him until he can't breathe. So, that's why he was sitting through this interview, across the room from Harry, staring blankly at the wall, not even listening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darling, Don't You Think I Should Be Pining For You?

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story hazzaandl0u (from tumblr) and I wrote over Omegle. Oh my god I really, really, hope it's not bad.

Is it sad that Harry almost feels cold without Louis close enough to bump his elbow against? Because he is, and it sucks, and he can't stop his eyes from wandering over to where Louis is sitting, all spaced out and looking not-quite-right, and Harry really wishes he could get inside his bestfriend's head, and figure out what's going on with him. He doesn't though, because Louis has always come to him on his own terms, and if he needed to talk, he would. Harry figures Louis knows he's always here; always has been, always will be, because he loves him so fucking much, and Harry thinks that's probably really obvious, but they don't talk about it. So he sits and waits and wonders and doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's doing so from his best friend.

Louis rubbed a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He literally feels like utter shit. It's like all the energy he'd once had before this happened was gone, and he didn't even feel like Louis anymore. The interviewer directed a question to him, but he didn't answer, which got him odd looks from everyone. To be quite honest, he really didn't care about anything anymore, so he shouldn't feel bad about not answering a simple question he's been asked a million times. What's the point of saying the same thing over and over anyway? What does that even accomplish?

Harry doesn't know what to think about the way Louis' acting. He's seen Louis mad, and he's seen Louis sad, and he's seen Louis hungry, and bored, and tired and restless, and horny, and irritable... but this is none of those things. This is more like Louis _done_ , and Harry's not sure any of them can take that, so he gets the interviewer's attention, answers the question, lets Liam say that Louis hasn't felt well today, and when the interviewer's attention is on someone else, Harry nudges Niall and motions to Louis to try and get his attention. If Louis' not going to come to him, he might have to just go to Louis.

Louis can feel the stares. He isn't stupid. So he just sinks further into the couch and tries to curl in on himself. He would do literally anything to get out of this interview and just go to the hotel room to get away from all of this. You could say the pressure from this, plus the pressure of trying to keep two important secrets from everyone, was getting to him. Maybe he would finally crack, who knows. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Niall wave and gesture to Harry, but Louis didn't want any more questions, so he shook his head, ignoring them both.

Harry really hopes that the way he flinches at that isn't noticeable, but it hurt, so he just sits back and bites his lip, and tries not to let it distract him. Only it does, because Louis doesn't shut him out like that...not normally. Nothing about today is normal, though, so Harry just taps his foot nervously for the next ten minutes of this ridiculous interview, and when the cameras are off, and the people are sidetracked, and they've all gotten their stuff from the make-shift dressing-room, and the the other boys are already in the hallway, Harry grabs Louis' wrist and pulls him back gently, and searches his eyes and thinks for a moment before he asks, "What's going on?"

Louis stares at Harry with a look that showed no emotion. No, emotions weren't showed in front of people, and _especially_ your best friend. He liked to bottle up his emotions until he's alone, and that's exactly what he's going to do. He'd done so well anyway. Louis looks down at the grip Harry had on his wrist before gently pulling it from his grasp. "Nothing, Haz, I'm fine," he said, trying to sound as convincing as he could. Hopefully, Harry would just leave him alone, but that hope was small. He couldn't catch a break anyway. Louis just looked at him a moment more before stepping out the door and into the hall, making his way to his dressing room.

Harry's not sure if what's brewing in the pit of his stomach is anger or hurt or exasperation, or maybe a mix of all three, but suffice it to say that Louis's half-assed attempt at a brush-off was not enough to put Harry off the subject, because he's stepping around the corner, right on Louis' heels, reaching to grab for his waist this time, and trying to stay quiet as he continues, "No, Louis, you're not fine. This isn't you. What's wrong?"

Louis turns to look at him then, completely ignoring how warm and welcoming Harry's arms were, and gave him his best puppy dog look, eyes watering. He was going on the whole no emotion thing, but Harry wouldn't drop the subject any other way. "I promise I'm fine. I'm just tired. Been a rough couple of months," he stated, trying to defend himself, wincing at the crack in his voice. Great, Louis, real great.

Harry tightens his hold on Louis' waist -not enough to hurt, but enough for him to feel it- and steps closer. "You don't look tired, Lou," he says softly, hoping the look in his eyes at least will be enough to get Louis to open up. "You don't look like you do when you're tired. You don't look like you're sick, or you're mad, or you're hurt. You look..." he lets his voice trail off, because he really doesn't know how to finish that sentence; doesn't know what he was going to say, because he doesn't know what Louis looks like, other than just done.

Louis shrugged, eyes half fluttering shut at how close they are. God, it feels so good to have Harry's arms wrapped around his waist so tightly; protectively. Giving up his fantasies though, he looks at Harry, raising an eyebrow. "I may not look tired..but I feel tired," he admitted, and it was only half true. He did feel tired. Louis felt tired of hiding everything, especially his feelings. But, he was just leaving out the reasons he was fed up with everything.

Harry stares into Louis' eyes for a moment; decides he still doesn't believe that's completely what's bothering his best friend, but he guesses now's probably not the time to drag it out of him, what with everyone waiting around for them, and all the people moving about, and curious eyes and ears. Because of this, he squeezes Louis' side a little, hugs him gently and whispers, "Gonna get it out of you eventually, Lou. Love you." and gives him a small, reassuring smile as he pulls back, and runs to join the rest of the boys in the car. He figures he'll get him later; invite him to watch a movie, and tickle it out of him if he has to.

Louis lets out a breath and watches as Harry retreats to the car. Always running away, it seems like. It took all of his strength to not sink to the floor and let everything out then, so he ran a hand through his hair and took his time walking back to the car. Sitting in the back and curling up next to the door, Louis rested his head on the window and closed his eyes. Once again, the familiar stares are burning through his body, and all he wants to do is tell them to bug off, that they have no part in what's going on with him. Well, everyone else but Harry. It did hurt; staying away from him, that is. But it was really for the best, despite how much he missed their hugs, whispers, lingering touches, etc..

On the ride back to their hotel, all Harry can think about is the burning sick feeling in his stomach, because Louis' all curled in on himself in the back seat, and he's got his eyes closed, and this seemingly permanent frown set on his pretty lips, and this is _Louis_. Louis who's always loud and crude and obnoxious and always, _always_ smiling. This new Louis hurts, and Harry hates it; hates whatever's caused this, because _his_ Louis would never be so... this. Harry thinks he'd do anything to make him smile. He tries a few times; draws a funny face in the condensation on the window, makes a stupid joke, accidentally hits himself in the face with his water bottle and makes everyone else laugh and shake their heads, but it's just not working on Louis. So he tries his plan from earlier. "Hey Lou," he starts, keeping his voice low. "Come watch a movie with me and lets eat junk food and make fun of Zayn's hair. I'm not taking no for an answer."

Louis shivers, and his breath hitches as Harry's hot breath tickles his face. He almost whimpered, but passed it off as a cough and lifted his head, glancing over at Harry. How could he say no anyway? The idea sounds so appealing, but he's not sure if he can give Harry what he wants. Which is the Louis he was about a month ago. The one who laughed, played pranks, jumped on the boys backs all the time, and just had fun with a big smile on his face. No, he can't be what Harry wants because it seems like that person left after he started convincing him off all the horrible things he was doing. Loving another boy, his best friend and band mate, and lying to everyone. So, so many lies. He was shaking as he stepped out of the car, following the rest of them into the hotel room, staying a little further behind, but close enough. Louis took a deep breath as they all piled into Zayn's room, and he looked up into Harry's hopeful eyes. Of course he couldn't deny him.

Harry pulls a silly face at Louis, gives him a grin. He's just glad the older boy hasn't said no, because at this point... hope is all he can ask for. He notices the way Louis' shaking when they all climb out of the car; figures it isn't from temperature, but warmth always helps, so he shrugs off his jacket and throws it around Louis' shoulders. He's not sure when he got so much bigger than Louis, but it's pretty ridiculous cause like he just keeps growing, so he tries to use it for a laugh; jokes, "Quit shrinking, you're gonna disappear in my clothes." When they make it upstairs, and everyone's stopping in Zayn's room, Harry throws his arms around Louis' shoulders from behind; tells them, "I'm taking sleepy here back to my room. We're gonna eat and make fun of you lot. Have fun knowing you're being ridiculed!" and he pulls Louis back into the hallway; steers him into his room.

Louis' lungs are filling up with Harry's scent, and the warmth from the jacket isn't helping at all. It's just making everything hurt more. Knowing Harry cared about their friendship so much was half a good thing, and half a bad thing, because of course all Harry wants is a friendship, but anything more and the little Louis does have of him would be gone. Then, he's sure he'd be completely over everything. He's just teetering on the edge of bursting right now, but as Harry pulls him inside and leads them to the couch, Louis thinks that for one day he can try to be happy for Harry.

Harry kicks the door closed behind them. He slides the lock in place, and wraps his arms back around his best friend. It's awkward walking like this: so close up against Louis when Harry's gotten so much taller lately, but he doesn't mind, because really all he wants to do is hold him close and let him cry or scream or talk or even just be silent as long as it'll fix him. Sometimes Harry thinks maybe Louis can't see how wonderful he is, or how Harry really feels about him, but then Harry thinks that's probably best, because he'd rather have Louis as his best friend than not at all. He shakes the thought from his head, though, and tackles Louis to the couch. He keeps his arms tight around the older boy, wraps his legs up with his, and rests his head by Louis' shoulder. "You wanna talk to me, now, or you just want to watch a movie?"

Louis' eyes flutter shut, and he gets a tight grip around his best friend, the guy who's always been there for him no matter what. He thinks about the question, and figures both are going to happen sooner or later anyway, yet he's still weighing his options. Louis _should_ just spill everything out, maybe cry to get pity so Harry wouldn't hate him as much. It would be easier than keeping everything from him, seeing as it's eating him from the inside out. But, lying here with Harry in a bundle of messy limbs, Louis wonders what it would be like to not have this anymore, and that makes him panic. No, right now they should just watch a movie and then maybe Harry will forget about it. "Can we watch a movie right now?" he breathes, hands twitching to grip Harry tighter against him.

Harry bites his lip at the way Louis holds him so tight; knows he was right about thinking there's something wrong, but he still doesn't want to intrude, figures Louis will open up when he's ready. So he traces his fingers down Louis' arm, kisses gently at his temple and replies, " 'course, love." He hesitates for a moment, not quite ready to let go, then untangles his upper half from Louis' grip, reaches for the remote, and scrolls through some of the OnDemand channels until they agree on something neither of them has heard of before. He starts to turn back into Louis' grip when the movie starts, but thinks maybe it's better to ask, first. "Cuddle me?" he tries, smiling prettily and blinking his eyes.

Louis almost flinches when Harry asks, because they never ask. It was always do, and not care. That pain went straight to his heart, as if it needed to be broken more. "Of course," he breathed, practically lunging at Harry and cracking a small smile, thinking that he needed to try and be happy, because the friendship is already breaking. He rests his head on Harry's chest and relaxes into his arms, breathing out slowly through his nose. Why the fuck must Harry know exactly what to do to help him calm down, and feel almost happy when he hasn't in a month? He sighed, taking one of Harry's hands in his own and playing with his fingers as the movie with a name he didn't remember played.

Harry's practically fucking beaming, and he thinks it's ridiculous, because it's just a smile from a boy who smiles at everything, but he hasn't smiled lately, and this smile is just for him, and that's the best thing Louis could've possibly done. Harry doesn't really know what it is about Louis that makes him feel the way he does, but he just wants this to never end, because he thinks maybe he's never loved any one in any way more than he loves Louis in every way, and he really wants to tell him that, because he thinks Louis really needs that right now, but he's also afraid, because it's decidedly not okay in some ways, because he's not allowed to love him in some ways. So he settles for this: one hand stroking at Louis' side, tickling over the skin where his shirt's rucked up, and the other in Louis' hands, and Harry smiles at that, too, because it's been so long since Louis' willingly touched him like this, and Harry kind of feels like he's on top of the world. Then he remembers that he'd offered food and ridicule, so he giggle-whispers in Louis' hair, "Want food? Got any good quiff-jokes?"

Louis' smile grew wider, and he was practically dying at how touchy-feely they were being right now. Harry's long, slender fingers were leaving sparks on his waist, and he swore that if Harry got up right now he would throw a tantrum. So, as part of his answer, he tightened his grip on Harry's hand, almost pouting. "Please don't leave. Let's just enjoy this, okay?" he asked quietly, snuggling back further into Harry's chest, closing his eyes and just listening to Harry's breathing, forgetting the movie entirely. Maybe it was creepy, but Louis kept finding more and more things to not care about, and plus, the effort Harry was making to just try and get Louis to be happy did wonders to his heart.

Harry thinks maybe he's going to cry at the way Louis' smile grows, and his grip tightens, and the way he pouts when Harry offers to get up, because literally this is all he wanted, and the fact that he's doing it makes him want to dance. He tightens his arms around Louis, snuggles down into him, squeezes his hip gently, nodding and pressing a kiss into the other boy's hair, and whispers, "Not going anywhere, babe. Not ever."

Louis sighs happily, not caring how weird it would be as he turned in Harry's arms, now facing him as he snuggled into his chest, fingers gripping his shirt. Maybe this was what he needed, because for the first time in a long time he felt like he could breathe and smile and be happy. Then again, Harry's always been what he's needed so Louis realizes that his behavior was ridiculous because Harry's here and he's always been here, and nothing Louis could do would change that. Well, he hoped.

Harry wraps his arms tighter around Louis; holds him close, and runs his fingers through his messy hair. The whole time Louis hasn't been cuddling with him and touching him and just being there...well it's not like Harry hadn't noticed, because believe him, he has. He thinks, though, that he didn't realize how much until now. Now that he's got this boy all curled up in his arms, and Harry wants everything just like this for the rest of forever because nothing's better than this, and he's convinced, so he just strokes his fingers down Louis' back, and holds him close, and he really thinks he wants to _tell_ Louis that he's missed him, but now seems like a bad time to bring up whatever's hurting him. He pinches a little at the skin exposed above Louis' jeans- the spot he knows he's ticklish in.

Louis wants to cry. Because Harry's holding him and not pressuring him or asking questions he doesn't have answers to and maybe, just maybe, Harry knows exactly what's going on but doesn't want to say anything and that makes Louis bite his lip because _wow_ what did he ever do to deserve a friend like that? Louis wants to be closer, so so much more closer, so he practically takes all the remaining space and closes it, clinging to Harry like he's a lifeline, and right now it feels like he is. He can't help but giggle a little when Harry slightly tickles him, and in that moment he's never wanted to kiss anyone more in his life.

Harry has to squeeze his eyes closed and bury his face in Louis' neck to keep himself in check, because Louis is fucking giggling and grinning and snuggling and clinging, and Harry just wants him so bad like Louis' the only thing he's ever known, and who the fuck knows- maybe he is- and Harry hopes he doesn't hear the way he has to sniff to keep his eyes from tickling; covers it up with this laugh he's been biting down, and clings back so tight to this Louis- _his_ Louis, because he's afraid if he lets go or looks away, or even just lets this second slip past, maybe he'll be gone, and now that Harry's gotten him back, he doesn't think he can handle losing him again, and now even squeezing his eyes closed aren't holding back tears, so he turns his head a bit so Louis won't feel moisture and just _holds on_ for dear life.

Louis hears it. He hears the way Harry's slowly breaking down, and every fiber in his being is telling him it's his fault, and that he needs to fix it. So, he brings Harry's head down and wipes away the tears and cuddles closer and smiles, and laughs and does anything to help make Harry happy, because seconds ago everything was perfect and now Harry's crying and all Louis wants is for him to be happy. He kisses Harry's chest, then his arm, then his neck, and then his cheek, all the while making sure their lips never touch, no matter how bad he ached for it. "Shh," he whispers, moving Harry's hair out of his eyes and looking up at him, smiling, because for some reason Louis thinks Harry needs to see that.

Harry's trying- really, truly trying- to stop the tears, but it's like it's raining from his eyeballs, and he can't stop it, and he feels like shit, because he thinks he's ruined it; ruined the few seconds he had Louis back, but then Louis' still smiling at him, laughing, kissing on him, pushing his hair back and smiling and Harry knows it's not exactly the same, but it's a smile, so he smiles back, and he finds it ridiculously funny that they're both such emotional wrecks, grinning at each other when one of them is so obviously broken, and the other is crying his eyes out, so now he's laughing and clutching Louis tighter and wrapping their legs together tighter, and he buries his face into Louis' neck, and whispers a soft, "I'm sorry. I'm just happy."

Louis sighs and rubs a hand up and down Harry's arm, linking one of their hands together because he can, and lets Harry cry because he doesn't know why he's sad but maybe it's best for him to get it out. He wishes he could cry because then maybe he'd feel better, and Harry would be there for him because that's what best friends do. Louis decides that maybe boundaries are out of the equation and while one hand is holding Harry's, the other is tracing patterns on his waist, hoping it would distract Harry and make him smile. He then moves his attention to Harry's hand and then starts playing with it again. "I've always loved your hands," he said after a moment, blushing.

Harry's starting to sober up; starting to feel the embarrassment creeping into his cheeks, because he doesn't usually break down like that for no reason, but he did, and he hopes it hasn't hurt Louis' feelings. He hadn't meant to, he just... he's just scared. He's pretty in-love with the way Louis just kept smiling that pretty smile at him, though, even if it wasn't his usual beam. Harry thinks he's probably just always beautiful. He doesn't want to re-visit that tear-fest, though, so he's just enjoying Louis' hands moving over his skin and at his waist, and the way -he thinks- their hands fit perfectly together, and then Louis' saying something about loving his hands, and he sniffs, eyes-widen, bites his lip, and asks, "wh-why...?"

Louis shrugs then, eyes still trained on Harry's hands. "They're just big. Like, they could protect someone you love in a heartbeat," he says, smiling. Maybe he feels a little better now, and he's still curled into Harry and he feels a little more happy now. Louis thinks that he's way smaller than Harry, despite the age difference, and his smile widens because if they were to ever magically get together, Harry would be able to protect him with those big arms, and the hands Louis' so fascinated with right now.

Harry thinks he might melt a little at that, because yeah, he guesses his hands are kinda big- especially in perspective of someone as petite as Louis- and yeah, he guesses they probably could protect whoever he loved, and he thinks it's a little bit ironic that Louis' saying that when duh, he loves Louis, and duh, he'd do anything to protect him, and that makes him laugh a little, makes him nuzzle his nose into Louis' soft hair, and whisper, "Yeah. I guess they could. Only the right person, though..." and he thinks maybe that was a bit ballsy of him, and his stomach turns, but he just stays curled around Louis, and listens to his soft breath.

Louis' heart flutters, and he's surely going crazy now, but he's taking it all in because he may never get this exact perfect chance again, so he just kisses every part of Harry's body he can reach. "I love you," he whispered over and over, trying to plant it in Harry's brain because right now seemed like the perfect time despite how messed up it could go. It was funny how Harry always knew everything, like when he was sad or mad or just..gone. Having Harry by his side always seemed to help him, and tonight was perfect.

Harry really can't move; just lays there all puppy-eyed and open-mouthed while Louis' lips press against his skin over and over, and he's got this clenching feeling in his heart like what if he's misunderstanding what's being said right now- what if Louis just loves him as a friend for being here for him, and wants to tell him how much he appreciates it- because if he is, he thinks his heart will break into a million little pieces and he'll never be able to clean them all up, so he'll just end up stepping all over them and hurting forever, because this is Louis. _His_ Louis. Only not. Because he's _not_ his. But he /wants/ him to be. So he figures, hey, if you're gonna go out, go all-out. He brings his hand up -the one Louis' been toying with- slips his fingers under Louis' chin, and wills Louis' eyes to meet his. He's biting his lips, and he's sure he's shaking, because this is about to either go very, very wrong... or very _very_ right. His eyes may or may not be watering again, a bit, but he rubs his thumb across Louis' damp lower-lip, and whispers, "Louis, I love you."

Louis' shivers, leaning into Harry's touch and gripping at his arms. He looks up into Harry's scared eyes, seeing the way he's about to start breaking down again, and Louis can't have that so he ever so gently grabs Harry's hand that holding his chin, kisses it, and the grabs the back of Harry's neck. Maybe this is the only way to fix them both, because Harry seems rather broken right now as well, and Louis pulls his head down, their faces inches apart and just stares into Harry's gorgeous green eyes. He sees the way Harry's bottom lip trembles and then he's leaning in, brushing their lips together and sending shock waves throughout his body.

The whole time Louis' looking at him, Harry's just in awe, because -as much as he hates to say it- he expected Louis to be disgusted. Maybe not disgusted... but put-off, in the least. So the fact that Louis' just staring at him like he's the only thing in the world... there's no holding back tears anymore, because Louis' still clinging onto him; still tangled up with him; still staring, and leaning closer, and touching their lips together, and Harry thinks that maybe for the first time in a _long_ time, Louis looks _almost_ okay... and Harry doesn't know rather he wants to devour Louis like he's not eaten for weeks, or rather he wants to touch him like he's the most delicate porcelain, so he tries to settle in-between. He slips his fingers along Louis' jaw, over his ear, up into his hair, and his other hand comes up to cup the older boy's jaw, and their lips are barely touching, but Harry doesn't think that anything has ever, _ever_ felt this good, or right, or perfect, or just... _Louis_.

It was beyond perfect. Louis noticed how delicate Harry was being with him, and although it was the best feeling he's ever had in the world, he wants more. Maybe that's selfish, because in all honesty Louis doesn't deserve any part of this perfect human being, but then again he does, in a way, so he moves closer and deepens the kiss. Louis almost whimpered, because this is so surreal and not happening and he's dreaming or dying and his heart is about to explode from his chest and for once he feels completely happy and amazing and if Harry ever leaves him he just might die.

Harry's eyes flutter shut, and pinch him, cause he thinks he's asleep. He has to be. But his fingers tighten in Louis' hair, and he kisses him back, a real kiss, and Harry's not sure which one of them makes the soft little noise, but he actually doesn't care. He doesn't think he'll care about anything, from now on, unless it's Louis' hands, or Louis' lips, or Louis' eyes, or... yeah... just Louis. His hands run down Louis' back, and they grip his waist, and pull him closer, and he's trying not to be presumptuous or rough or too intense, but he thinks not being intense is not an option, because he can't think of anything he's ever felt this intensely about, so he just hold this boy close and kisses him and feels him and breathes him and he's completely content to be this way forever.

Louis whimpers into Harry's mouth, not being able to help himself because this is everything he's ever wanted and more, and he licks Harry's bottom lip because he can, and then Harry's opening his mouth and their tongues are sliding together and it feels like he's on fire. Everything Harry's doing is too much and not enough and then Louis is moving as close as he can get because why not, and Harry's still kissing him and Louis doesn't care about the need for air because he feels like if they break apart his whole world is going to shatter. All he needs is Harry's lips on his, and maybe more.

Harry can't help the way he whines into Louis' mouth when their tongues meet, or the way he has to angle his head up a bit to get deeper, because it's just so, so good, and his hands slide down Louis' back a little, and he hadn't realized that all this wiggling has hitched Louis' t-shirt up, but he does now, because his hands are flat against hot skin, and he's on fire; smoldering at least, and his hands are sliding up the smooth, hot skin of Louis' back, and he just feels so fucking good that Harry just wants to touch all of him, everywhere; wants to kiss his elbows and the small of his back, and the backs of his knees, and _everything_ in-between.

Louis' eyes are fluttering, and his whole body is burning under Harry's touch. Those big hands are protecting _him_ , keeping _him_ close, and he doesn't think anything can get more perfect. Feeling a little daring, he breaks away, whining at the loss of contact, and takes off his shirt, lips immediately attacking Harry's again. He's well aware of how heated it's getting in the first few minutes, but again he can't seem to care because this is _Harry_ and Harry's all he's ever wanted and more. Harry's all he's ever needed, and to have him this close feels like heaven, and maybe he died, but it doesn't seem to matter because either way Harry's _here_ and kissing him, and Louis just might cry.

Harry's eyes widen -comically, he's sure- and he can feel his cheeks flushing, because Louis' pulled his shirt off -and okay, it's not like Harry's never seen anyone shirtless, because of course he has. He's even seen Louis shirtless, plenty of times. As a matter of fact, he's seen Louis in much, much less, and it was fine then, he could just politely look away, but now Louis' on top of him, kissing him intently, taking off his clothes, and Harry feels like he's 15 again. For a second. Then he realizes that Louis' on top of him. Kissing him. Shirtless. Oh. So his hands are moving back up Louis' hot back; kneading his sides and kissing him deeper and he can feel Louis' tummy against skin where his own shirt is pushed up, and Jesus Christ, he thinks he might lose is religion, or gain it, or something...

Louis' body is shaking, because he can't believe what's happening, and it seems like all his worries have gone away all because of Harry. This is probably the most perfect moment in his entire life, and they're still kissing because it's needy and clingy and it's like because they have to have it to survive now, so neither are pulling away because there's no point. He's scared, oh so very, very scared because maybe Harry is only doing this to make Louis happy, because that's the kind of person Harry is. So Louis is kissing him harder, deeper, and is clutching Harry's shirt in his hands so tight, and then he whispers an, "I love you so much, Harry," against his lips.

Harry's gripping Louis' hip with one hand, and the back of his neck with the other, and he kisses him back, all passion and intensity and just _want_ and Louis' whispering against his lips, and Harry thinks maybe his heart's going to explode if Louis says one more thing, so he kisses him again; gentle, but deep, and the hand tangled in his hair slips down to caress his cheek, and Harry opens his eyes, and stares straight into Louis', and now that he's sure this is the real thing, he whispers back, "Lou, I love you. God. I love you so fucking much.

Louis whimpers, and pulled back, breathing hard, eyes glazed and chest rising rapidly. Never in a million years would he ever think he'd be kissing Harry. Louis feels so small though, because why did Harry have to grow like a foot taller than him, and look like freaking sex on legs? So he flips them so Louis is under Harry, and tugs at the hem of his shirt, biting his lip and looking back up into Harry's eyes. He was sure his were filled with lust, want, need, and pain. The fact that Harry loved him just as much made his heart swell up, and soon his hands were exploring Harry's torso, and their lips were crashed back together.

Harry's brain is running a mile a minute, maybe faster, and he feels like he's losing his mind, and then he's on top of Louis, and he's all wide-eyed and open-mouthed again, and the only thing that's snapping him back into it is the look on Louis' face, and the tugging at his shirt, so he reaches back and tugs his top off over his head, and lets it drop somewhere and Louis' hands on him are cool and he's burning up, and Louis' lips are hot and fervent and Harry slots his thigh between Louis' to lower himself down, and they're pressed chest-to-chest, and Harry thinks it's almost all too much, and not enough, so he dips his hot tongue back into Louis' soft mouth, and waits for him to give some clue of what he wants.

Louis moans, face heating up in a blush that's either embarrassed or hot, and he's dying as Harry's tongue battles with his. He thinks, though, that in order for them to go further, he has to clear the air, be completely honest with Harry otherwise he'll feel so guilty. Louis pulled back, breathing ragged and heavy, and rested his forehead in the crook of Harry's neck, hands now gripping Harry's hair. "I've..been so distant lately...because I never thought...that you could love me back," he panted, looking up at him with honest eyes, searching for any regret in them, because honestly who'd want such a broken person?

Harry's just looking into Louis' eyes, now; staring down at this beautiful person under him, and he feels like he's just been smacked with a sack of bricks, because that's... that's insane. How could anyone _not_ fall in love with this boy? Harry thinks, no, _knows_ he's loved Louis this whole time. Through all of it. From the very first smile in the mirror, he's been head-over-heels, and he wants to tell Louis that; isn't sure how he'll react to it. So he just shakes his head, and gets this fond little smile on his face, and tells Louis, "Always. It's always been you."

Louis' eyes close, and he's wrapping his arms around Harry's neck and hugging him. "I'm so sorry for pushing you away, I was just so, so scared of losing you. I can't lose you," he whispered, lips moving to kiss Harry's neck now, hands trailing down and all over his body, like they're memorizing it. Louis absolutely loves everything about this boy, the boy who's had his heart for years, yet didn't know it. Harry's all he wants, and that's forever. He's like air for Louis, and that's why he's been so miserable lately. He didn't have his other half, but now he does, so close and never leaving. It was amazing.

Harry squeezes his eyes tight again, thinking now's not the time for more of his cry-baby tears. He's glad for Louis' soft lips on his neck; soft hands on his back to distract him, and he whispers in Louis' ear, "Then just don't leave me again. I forgive you. Just please, please don't leave me, again." and that's all it takes and his eyes are stinging again, so he lowers his head and kisses Louis deep and puts all of himself into this kiss, and hopes that Louis feels it, and knows how much he loves him, and how perfect he thinks he is, and how he never wants anything else.

Louis sits up, pushing Harry until he's in a sitting position as well and Louis' sits in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist and lips against lips. "Never. God, I'd never leave you Harry," he mumbled, tangling his fingers in Harry's hair and tugging a little, grinning at the sound that came out of Harry's mouth. Louis, feeling daring and hot and just everything, ground down on Harry's lap, moaning out his name and burying his face in Harry's neck. "Bedroom?" he asked almost shyly, sucking on the skin of Harry's neck.

Harry forgets to reply for a second because there's a possibility that he died. Never in his entire life has any sort of sexual-contact thrown him so off-kilter that he forgot what he was saying or doing or thinking or made him feel as impossibly _stupid_ as he does right now, with this boy grinding down in his lap, and moaning his name, but he's so ridiculously, embarrassingly hard in his pants, immediately, because this is _Louis_ who he thought he'd be forever pining after, asking him to take him to bed, and not in the most literal of ways, so forgive him if he's a bit dumb at the moment. When he gathers his thoughts nicely enough to reply, it's with, "Lou... are you sure?" even though he's shaking, and his hands are gripping Louis' waist, and his eyes probably look sinful.

Louis bites down on Harry's neck softly, tongue flicking out to smooth it over, practically screaming that Harry belongs to someone now. He looked up into Harry's eyes, giving him the proudest smirk he's ever managed. "I've never been more sure about anything in my entire life," he said, resting his forehead against Harry's and grinding down again, the feeling of Harry's clothed erection against him making him moan once more. "God, Harry, _please_ ," he breathed, moving to kiss him again.

Harry growls softly into Louis' ear. He's fairly sure there's nothing hotter in the world than Louis. Like, nothing. Unless it's Louis' ass. But then it's still Louis, so.. He grips under Louis' thighs, and rocks himself forward, intending only to get up, but if his hips grind into Louis a little bit in the process, then he can't really help it, right? So he hitches Louis up on his hips a little, and holds onto him tightly, and makes his way into his bedroom, and drops him gently on top of the duvet, and kneels down onto the bed in front of him, crawls forward to hover over him, and leans down and kisses him hard and deep and sure and it just feels perfect.

Louis tangles his hands in Harry's hair once more, bucking his hips up to get some sort of friction, and pulls Harry closer, afraid of letting him go for a second. It was funny, honestly, because Harry still seemed to treat him gently, as if he might break if handled too hard. The guy he fell in love with is just perfect, isn't he.. Louis' fingers mindlessly start fiddling with the button on Harry's jeans, and then he mouth is close to his ear, "I need you," he mumbled, teeth nibbling Harry's earlobe.

Harry has to squeeze his eyes shut and take a deep breath to compose himself, because Jesus Christ, he doesn't think Louis' even trying to completely ruin hum, but he's doing a fucking good job. He rolls his hips down into Louis', giving him the friction he's searching for, and he's still a bit embarrassed about how insanely hard he is already, but he supposes that's a good thing- or will be soon- so grinds down into Louis once more, moans aloud at the way the other boy's teeth feel on his ear, and he allows Louis to undo his pants, and leans down to whisper, "I'm yours. However you want me."

Louis moans, having not yet gotten used to the feelings Harry's giving him. So, Louis shoves Harry's pants down, fingers playing with the hem of his boxers, grinning. "Mmm, you're already so hard. You want me this badly?" he asked, raising an amused eyebrow as he cupped the bulge in Harry's boxers, watching with fascination as the boys' eyes glaze over in pleasure. He kisses Harry hard, rubbing the obvious hard on and biting back moans himself. Leaning into Harry's ear, he whispered, "I want you to fuck me until I can't remember anything but the feel of you inside of me."

Harry gasps audibly, and rolls his hips into Louis' hand. He's not sure he's going to be able to handle this, because he's literally _painfully_ hard, and Louis' whispering in his ear, and Harry's groaning out, "LouisJesusYou'regoingtofuckingkillme." and he's slipping a hand down between them to undo Louis' jeans, and tug at them unsuccessfully, because holy _hell_ who needs their pants this sinfully tight? But he's not going to complain aloud, because these are his favorite, if he's honest. Until now. Now he kind of despises them. and he's moving between Louis' legs to peel the denim down off his fucking _delicious_ thighs, and Harry's never really been able to handle himself when it came to Louis' hips or his ass or his thighs, because what guy has curves like this? But Harry doesn't know, because all he does know is Louis' the sexiest thing that's ever walked through the door, and he's all laid out in front of him, right now; all for him, and Harry thinks yeah, he's going to take full advantage of this opportunity, so when he finally wiggles the jeans down off Louis' calves, he throws them to the side, and dips his head down to lick and suck a bruise into the soft, tan skin of his thigh.

Louis gasps and grips Harry's arms tightly, eyes shutting as Harry's kissing and sucking and biting his skin, and Louis thinks that he's never loved anyone so much in his entire life, because Harry is his bestfriend, and almost his lover, and he would do anything to make Louis happy and it's just so fucking surreal that it's hard to believe. So Louis pulls Harry's head back up so they can kiss, because there obviously wasn't enough of that, and there will probably never be. He can't help but think that Harry is _his_ now, and vice versa, and he can finally kiss and cuddle and _love_ him whenever he wants, really, without a care in the world. And he kisses Harry hard and hungry now, but later, after everything's done, the kisses will be sweeter and less heated, and they'll whisper sweet nothings into each others ears. His head is spinning, and he breaks away, looking up at Harry with wide, almost innocent like eyes, "I love you," he said again, because it seems like that's never going to be said enough.

Harry's heart hurts at how sweet and young Louis looks all laid out and vulnerable and open and he's never really seen this deep into this side of Louis, but he thinks he's in love with it all the same- maybe more. He thinks he'd like to see it all the time. Thinks he never wants anyone else to see it, because this is his, and only his, and he wants to keep it all for himself, so he nuzzles his nose into Louis' neck, and brushes their cheeks together, and noses his chin, and rubs the tips of their noses together, and with every touch, he's whispering, "I love you, I love you, I love you..." because he'll say it over and over until he has no voice left, and then he'll find a way to say it some more, because it's the only thing he's ever been sure of, and he thinks that if he runs out of air telling Louis that he loves him... well that'd be the perfect way to go.

Louis' eyes flutter shut, and he's breathing because of those words. The words that drive him insane and make his heart explode. Then, he decides to pull off Harry's boxers, as well as his own, because there is always too much clothes on Harry, and then his eyes are raking up and down Harry's body, taking every inch of him in. It seems impossible that this amazingly gorgeously perfect person is his, because in no world would Louis ever deserve him, and then he's kissing him again because why not, and he's bucking his hips up, moaning into Harry's mouth at the friction it caused between both of their aching erections. "Make love to me, Haz," he said quietly, kissing down Harry's jaw.

Harry doesn't think he's ever felt any emotion the way Louis makes him feel it. It's like he amplifies everything times 50, or 100. Love and pain and attraction and humor and sadness and lust and just all of it; Louis' like drugs. In every possible way, Louis is like a drug, and Harry has no intention of using it responsibly. He hums against Louis' neck in approval at the way he's being touched, because no one makes Harry feel wanted the way Louis does, and that goes for every aspect of life, because Louis' just... always so... _Louis_. He bites Louis' earlobe gently, strokes his fingers up the inside of Louis' soft, tan thigh; loves the way Louis' skin is so soft and cool and perfect, and he's stretching up and reaching into the bag on his nightstand, withdrawing a little bottle of silky lube and a condom, and he bites his lip, holds up the foil, whispers, "D'you... want me to...wear this, or...?

Louis sighs, looking at the rubber condom wrapped in plastic. "It's your choice. Whatever is more special for you," he said, smiling. It wasn't always about Louis, and he couldn't really care less because this was Harry, and he trusts and loves him with all of his heart. It was a good choice, after all, to not deny Harry when he was asked to watch a movie, because it led to all of this, and Louis had never been more happy in his life. Also, he found it quite amusing as he looked at Harry, him trying to decide what to do.

Harry bites his lip for a moment, wrinkles his nose as he tries to decide. "Won't make it any more or less special... might be less of a mess, though, so..." he's blushing a bit, now; biting open the packet, and rolling the rubber up his shaft. He smiles a little lopsidedly at Louis, cheeks still tinged red, and looks down to coat his fingers in slick liquid. He rubs his fingers up the crack of Louis' bum, smears the wetness around his entrance, and glances back up into his eyes before he uses his free hand, braced on that elbow, to wipe Louis' slightly sweaty fringe out of his eyes. "Love you so much," he whispers, "just... just tell me if you want me to stop, or...or anything. At all." and he waits for any objection before he presses a long, thin finger into Louis slowly and carefully, and kisses along his neck to distract him.

Louis half hisses, half moans and closes his eyes. "God, Harry," he groaned, nails scratching Harry's back as his finger moved inside of him. That was definitely getting washed. Louis moved his head into the crook of Harry's neck, trying to distract himself from the business going down there, and started sucking on Harry's neck. "So fucking gorgeous," he stated, kissing every part of Harry's body he could reach, moaning when Harry's finger curled and touched that specific spot that would make him weak in the knees. "Oh, fuck, right there!" he practically yelled, and decided to be embarrassed about it later.

Harry smiles a little at the way Louis lets loose with Harry's fingers in him; catches Louis' lips in a kiss that's really less of a kiss, and more tongue, as he slips in a second finger, bites Louis' lip to focus on that pain instead of the one between his legs, and waits a second or two before he goes to pressing the two fingers in and out of Louis' slick, tight heat. He's pressing in deeper, fingers crooking up into the bundle of nerves inside the pretty thing under him, and he's whispering to him, cooing sweet things at him like, "God, you're so beautiful. You really have no idea," and "You look so damn good, Lou. So good." as his fingers massage that sweet spot up inside him.

Louis' a mess. He's moaning and arching his back, and his eyes are half lidded and he can't think straight. Wrapping his arms around Harry's neck, Louis kisses his cheek, looking into those piercing green eyes. "I'm ready," he breathed, breath hitching at how sparkly Harry's eyes seem to be right now. He figured he's let Harry figure out what to do, because this is his first time, with a guy that is, and he trusts Harry more than he does himself. So when Harry pulled his fingers out, asking him if he was sure and getting a nod, Louis closed his eyes as he waited for the obviously bigger insertion coming. He gripped the bed sheets tightly in his hands to keep any sort of sanity at this moment.

Harry bites his lip, kisses the corner of Louis' mouth; his lips; his chin, reaches down with his already-dirty hand to slick up his length, cheeks tinting red again as he works his hand over himself in front of Louis, which is funny, considering what they're about to do... He strokes Louis' cheek with his clean hand, lines himself up with Louis' stretched-open entrance, and reassures him, "If you need me to stop, slow down, speed up, do a jig..." he grins at Louis, trying to lighten the mood, and lowers his head to press forward into Louis- slowly and gently and stroking his pretty cheek, and breathing against his collarbone, and trying not to put too much weight on him, because Harry just wants this whole experience to be the best thing Louis' ever felt.

Louis feels like he's about to pass out, because stuff like this never happens to him. So he's just nodding along to Harry's words, his eyes squeezing shut as Harry enters him, and he thinks it feels a little odd. But, it's okay because he wants this so badly he can almost taste it, and then Harry's going deeper, and he can actually feel himself being filled up, and he lets out a giggle at that, because this whole situation should be weird but it isn't. "Move," he breathed, giving him a reassuring smile.

Harry bites his lip and grins at him; rocks his hips back and forward again slowly; runs his fingers through Louis' hair; drops his head back down to kiss across Louis' collarbones, and lets his hips pick up a slow, gentle pace- throwing in a few experimental grinds and dips and rocks and he's already panting himself, because Louis' just so _tight_ but of course he's tight, because he's never done this. Harry slides a hand along Louis' thigh; grips underneath it and hitches it up a bit to get a new angle, and slides back in, and he moans out kind of loudly, because _Jesus_ and then he's picking up a bit of speed, and rubbing the sensitive spot up inside the boy under him; hitting it over and over.

Louis' moans aren't exactly civilized, and he's calling out Harry's name, surely loud enough for neighbors to hear, so he bites them back, clawing at Harry's skin. "Fuck, Harry, right there. Oh, God. Faster. Harder," he's chanting, squeezing his eyes shut and all too soon feeling in the pit of his stomach that he's not far. He's a groaning, moaning, sweating mess and he's sure that he looks like a train wreck. Maybe he can get off without Harry even touching him, or him touching himself. He's close, now, and Harry's picking up speed, hitting his prostate each time, and Louis thinks it's all too good to be true.

Harry's fast approaching blowing the fuck up, because nothing- and he does mean _nothing_ \- has ever been as fucking hot as the way Louis is, all squirming and moaning and sweating, and he's calling out Harry's name, and scratching at his skin, and Harry's so hot; on fire, hips slamming into Louis harder and deeper and faster and Harry's got his nails digging into Louis' thigh; is rolling his hips in sloppy, quick circles and can feel how Louis' tightening around him. He hitches Louis' thigh over his hip, and moves his hand to grip Louis' cock, and stroke up it, groaning in Louis' ear like, "Louis, fuck, you feel so fucking good."

That was all it took, combined with Harry stroking him, Louis bit down on Harry's shoulder, white liquid spilling out between them, Louis moaning out his last few 'Harry's' while his whole body shook from his high. Never did he think he'd be doing this with his bestfriend...lover? Who knows. All he wants is to cuddle up next to Harry and sleep, after they're cleaned up of course, but he can still feel Harry thrusting inside of him, and Louis smirks, moving his head up next to Harry's ear. "God, I fucking love you _so_ much," he moaned, nibbling Harry's earlobe.

He guesses it might be kind of pathetic, to some people, but hearing those words come from Louis' mouth when he's so close to the edge, and Louis' already come, and he knows he's done a good job, and he's got Louis underneath him, shaking and panting and he still can't believe this, so Louis' words are all it takes before Harry's back is arching into Louis' body, and his hips stutter, and he's whining Louis' name over and over, and coming hard, and then he's coming down, resting his head against Louis' shoulder and just breathing, and everything's perfect, and he just whispers back, "God, I love you."

Louis smiles and kisses Harry lightly on the lips, wincing as Harry pulled out of him, throwing the condom in the trash. Louis leaned over and rummaged through the drawer, finding some tissues and a disinfectant wipe, handing that to Harry and cleaning himself up with the tissues. Just because he'd just had the most blissfully amazing moment of his life, did _not_ mean that what they just did didn't have some potentially 'gross' things happening. Louis sighed, curling up into Harry's chest and kissing it, looking up at him with a smile. "I have a question," he said, and immediately his expression changed to scared but hopeful.

Harry can't help the loud burst of laughter he lets out when Louis hands him the disinfectant wipes; shakes his head and cleans his hands off, grinning up at Louis and rolling his eyes. He lays back, and curls Louis into his chest; kisses his forehead and holds him close, and strokes his back, and answers him with a smirk and a cheeky, "I have an answer."

Louis scoffed, pushing Harry playfully. Deciding to be stubborn, Louis just shook his head and curled further into Harry's chest. "I was trying to be serious. But never mind," he huffed, biting back a smirk. Two can play at that game, Styles, Louis thought. Maybe he was going crazy.

Harry chuckles and presses two fingers under Louis' chin to tilt his head up. He kisses his lips gently, and strokes his thumb over Louis' chin, "I'm sorry, Love. What is it?"

Louis almost melts at the gesture, and smiles as he lays his head back down onto Harry's chest, just wanting to be held. "Will you be my boyfriend?" he asked, quietly, hiding his face. Even after everything that had just happened, Louis couldn't help but be a little afraid about this whole thing. What if it just crumbles like their friendship almost did?

Harry rubs his hands over Louis' shoulders, and down his arms. He exhales and closes his eyes and smiles a little to himself as his hands rest at Louis' lower back. He contemplates his answer for a moment, tracing shapes on Louis' bare skin, until he thinks he's got the right one. He tuns his head so his mouth's against Louis' ear, and he whispers, "Boo, I will be anything you want me to be, so long as you're mine." And he really hopes that comes out less cheesy to Louis that it does to himself.

Louis lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding at the answer. Wait. Then that means... He beams, lifting his head up and looking into Harry's eyes, looking for any sign that unhappiness, or something that would make him unsure of wanting something like this with him, and when he found nothing, he surged forward and let their lips meet in a sweet, careful kiss. Okay, so he /must/ be dreaming now, right?

Harry kisses him back and strokes his hands over all of Louis' exposed skin. He pulls him closer and nuzzles into his neck, and whispers in his ear, "So now that we've slept together, we should like... sleep together. And you should wake up in my bed, and I'll take you on to a proper breakfast, and I'll wine you and dine you all day, and yeah. How's that sound?" He smirks down at Louis, and tangles his fingers with the smaller boy's.

"You're such an idiot," Louis said, giggling. "But, yeah, that sounds perfect Haz," he said, yawning and stretching his limbs before curling in closer to Harry, pulling the blanket around the both of them. He still couldn't believe it. A couple of hours ago he'd probably been so miserable that he wouldn't care what anyone did or said, he was just done with everything. Now, he felt alive again, and it was all because of the beautiful boy laying next to him, his big, strong arms wrapped around him as he rubbed small circles into Louis' skin. Everything was so perfect. 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god editing this took forever but I really, really hope you guys enjoy this.


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